


and she was only nineteen

by jumbled_sentiment



Category: Original Work
Genre: (hopefully), Personal Growth, Poetry, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 21:14:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20803088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumbled_sentiment/pseuds/jumbled_sentiment
Summary: In the unlikely event that anybody actually stumbles across this during a late night scrolling session, please don't bother reading it on your phone. I love how this looks on my laptop, but on my phone the structure looks like absolute shit. If I were you, I wouldn't subject yourself. Happy scrolling.





	and she was only nineteen

**Author's Note:**

> In the unlikely event that anybody actually stumbles across this during a late night scrolling session, please don't bother reading it on your phone. I love how this looks on my laptop, but on my phone the structure looks like absolute shit. If I were you, I wouldn't subject yourself. Happy scrolling.

There is no doubt, the girl is her own worst enemy.

Horrors and nightmare fuel run amok through her dreams.

She tries her best to be gentle, whispering kind words into the dark like a long overdue plea,

But she has no idea what kindness actually looks like, it seems,

Because all she can do for others is tell them, “Use me, go ahead,”

And all she can do for herself is to keep on breathing, and it’s often with difficulty,

When she’s realised that everybody lied to her when they said,

“If only you keep running around in those same sad circles, you’ll find an ending eventually.”

\- -

“But how can one be their own worst enemy if they want nothing more than to thrive in the first place?”

Is the question she begs of her bathroom mirror, flaunting more cracks than her once strong backbone.

Her reflection just stares, steady streams of salt making their merry way down her face.

The answer, she fears, is that wanting so desperately to thrive has quickly become a problem of its own,

As the most unanswerable questions always scream the loudest, and what does it mean to truly thrive?

How can you pick out the person who falls asleep smiling from a lineup of those who don’t?

How can you meet your own handwritten expectations, without losing it before you reach twenty-five?

This girl, she is inclined to believe that you can’t, in the same way that you will only ever survive alone.

\- -

By herself, she will never know what they mean when they talk of happiness,

Constantly rewriting her rules until she can just about see some page through the ink, almost.

In the end, she’s had enough of her excuse being the same old loneliness,

And she vows to stop wondering whether her most recent chance was her last.

Tonight, the world around her is mellow.

Silence doesn’t bode well with her, and she hasn’t taken a deep breath for far too long after.

Time is stuck in between the day before and the one to follow,

When, behold, a brand-new crack appears in the mirror.


End file.
